Twilight
by watchmaker1331
Summary: Regulus Black has made choices in his past that may have cost him something dear. PreSS. Please R&R.


She was an angel. Her long chestnut curls cascaded across the blood-stained gravel like an amber river, her storm gray eyes hollow in death. They stared unseeingly up at the twilight sky, her chest rising painfully in labored gasps for life.

He stood at her side, silent. The evening wind whipped his black hair across his eyes, the twilight casting his pale mask in a haunting light. The oranges and golds played across his artificial face, making him glow as, with each ragged breath, her face grew paler.

Blood ran freely from the wounds on her stomach and face, the long red lines scarring her face and neck. No spells, no potions, no Muggle miracles would save her now…the earth had swallowed her life and left her alone, an empty husk of a witch, to die in the twilight.

He knelt beside her in the mud and the blood and the silence. Could she hear him? Could she see his face?

She stiffened slightly as she felt breath on her face. "Who are you?" she choked, a shinning crimson rivulet trickling down her cheek. He could not bring himself to reply. Her cold hand groped the gravel, snatching desperately at the hem of his cloak. She tugged at it weakly. "Who are you?"

"It's me, darling. Regulus is here, don't worry," he whispered, gathering her up in his arms.

"Regulus? What…?" she sputtered, a ruby bubble glistening on her quivering lip. "But you…"

"I know darling. I came as soon as I heard," he lied. Why was she here? Why was she with them? A single tear fell from his cheek to hers. She struggled to smile.

"Shh…Don't cry for me, my darling. We'll see each other again. I'll wait for you, I promise." She reached up blindly and wrapped her fingers into his hair. His mask tumbled down onto the ground behind him, splattered with the sludge of the battlefield. He pulled her closer to him, resting his sweaty forehead on hers. He kissed her gently, tasting the blood and feeling her slowing breath. She kissed him back one last time, and then her head fell back; she was dead.

The tears ran freely now, coating his face with a thin film of despair. How could she be here? Why was she laying here on the ground, covered in filth and blood? This was a deserted stretch of moor…no civilians should have been caught in the middle!

But he knew the answer, even before her felt the golden flaming-bird pendant digging into his flesh; she was one of them. She was a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

For her, he had joined the Dark Lord's ever growing forces. They were unstoppable; it was better to be the right hand of the devil than in his path. He had wanted to protect her, to do what was right to keep her safe. He hadn't told anyone about her…how could he? She had known nothing about him, and yet, they had been in love.

Sirius had never understood. Of course is sniveling brother would crawl to the Death Eaters like the coward that he was. Sirius was noble and righteous…a true Gryffindor. He couldn't understand that, perhaps, some things were worth than a cause.

For her, he had tortured, he had extorted, he had murdered. In her secret name he had kissed her goodbye in the evenings and gone to be with his Lord. She had never known, never suspected. And, God willing, she had gone to her grave without hearing a whisper.

Of course he had wondered what she did when he was gone. A sewing circle, perhaps, or a bowling league. Even if she had been with another man, he wouldn't have cared. He would have understood. All that mattered was keeping her safe.

But this…

He sobbed in the twilight as his world crashed down around him. This was wrong. Malfoy was wrong. Crabbe, Goyle, Knott, Snape were wrong. Their names and voices rang out mockingly in his head, shouting a single, horrible name:

VOLDEMORT!

With a cry full of vengeance, he rose, her limp body clutched in his arms. His eyes bleary with tears, he looked around wildly for any sign of He-Who-Had-Destroyed-Him. No longer would he cower obediently at His side, the blood of innocents dripping from his hands and his wand! No more would he be His instrument of death! No more would he call himself by the accursed name of Death Eater!

Revenge coursed through his veins like a cleansing fire, scourging him of his pain and his darkness, leaving behind it only pain.

He knew what he must do.

Silently, he laid her body back onto the ground. He smoothed her hair back from her eyes and kissed her forehead. The amber curls smelled like strawberries.

He laid the tip of his wand to the edge of her bloody cloak. "_Incendio_."

The flames crawled hungrily across her cloak-shroud and burrowed into her skin. In moments, she was no more than ashes in the twilight.

He wiped the tears and blood from his face and turned his back on the funeral pyre. "Forgive me, my darling. We will see each other again very soon."

Then he walked away, leaving his mask alone in the blood in the twilight.

He approached Him. "Master," he whispered, the poisonous words rolling off of his tongue like acid. He stared at the great, fetid _thing _he had once worshipped. Her thunderhead eyes burned in his mind, a constant reminder of His crimes.

But Judgment Day was fast approaching.

He knew that snake's weaknesses. The Horcruxes, those demonic soulcatchers he constantly crowed about. And now he knew how to exact his revenge.

He bowed to the pathetic, faithless creature, a grim smile on his face. _Remember what He has done! Remember her name!_ Amelia…Amelia…Amelia! A mantra, over and over again in his mind. He raised his eyes to His face, taking in every disgusting, slim-ridden detail. Then he spoke.

"Milord, perhaps I could take this locket for you. Surely there is something else that claims more of you atten--"

The door to the chamber flew open and Lucius's high voice penetrated the darkness. "Forgive the interruption, my Lord, but there is a man here who wishes to speak with you."

"What is his name?" was the hissing reply.

"He calls himself Wormtail, my Lord. He says he has important information you want to know."

A thin, mirthless smile slithered across His repulsive features. A horrible revulsion filled him, but he held back, saving it in that secret place in which she now dwelt. It was not yet the time.

"My Lord?" he asked, keeping the eagerness from his voice.

"Yes, of course. If you fail me Black…" Those ghastly, ruby red eyes. "You will wish you had never been born."

"Of course, my Lord." He rose and kissed his Lord's hand, taking the locket and stuffing it deep into his pocket. "Worry not. I will fulfill my duty."

_She was an angel._

"_I'll wait for you, I promise."_


End file.
